Full Deck
by LadyKitsuneHavoc
Summary: America, Lithuania, Belarus, China, and Italy find themselves in a strange haunted castle with an eerie past. They each have a part to play in this never ending story: Joker, King, Queen, Jack, and Ace. And in this house nothing makes sense. An evil shadow stalks the halls of this castle and they have a duty to figure out the mystery of this house and put a stop to it at any cost.


**Author's Note:**

Hello! This is my first story here. I've written other fan fictions before, but this is also my first Horror fan fiction. I don't know if this story will be very good, and horror is definitely not my strong point. It'll probably evolve into something else altogether, though I'll try to keep it horror. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**Shout outs:**

None yet, but post reviews to this chapter and you'll see some.

**Thanks for choosing to read this story!**

Chapter One: The Joker

America gasped as he started awake, rubbing his head. He nervously looked around, realizing that he was not in a good situation, or anywhere that he recognized. He vaguely remembered that a young man had appeared. He wore all black and he was dripping wet. His skin was blue. America knew a ghost when he saw one, and they had always scared him. But this thing had made him absolutely terrified. He couldn't even manage to cry out. It inspired pure terror. He remembered it cornering him. And England had been there. He had tried to help. But the ghost had grabbed his arm and...

The thing was gone now, and it looked like he was in a house of some kind. And old one. Everything was dusty and old looking. The wind outside howled and moaned, and the walls seemed to echo that moan. Either that or ghosts of unfortunate souls like him were moaning. That wasn't a comforting thought. He shuddered and stood on wobbly legs. This seemed like something out of a horror movie. And he didn't like it in here at all. Slowly, he moved forward, carefully remembering his training during times of war. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He winced as his head gave a pang. He must have hit it on the ground or something.

He felt panic threatening to rise up into his throat. He was terrified of ghosts, and now they were everywhere. He just knew it by the chill in the air. He was alone. He wasn't sure how he was going to cope. But suddenly he froze. There was a noise behind him. He jumped and turned to look. It was another ghost.

The girl was pretty, and she wore a white nightgown. Like the other ghost, she was wet and her skin was blue. He leaped away in fright and his back hit the wall. He froze, scared of her. But she reached forward and held out two pistols. He paused and looked down at them. She pushed them forward into his hands insistently and then disappeared like a breath of vapor. America blinked in surprise and then sighed, walking a few paces forward.

He paused, looking down at them. They were both loaded. He could tell that by their weight. He didn't know who that girl was. He didn't know what she really wanted. But he couldn't deny that having the guns in his hands reassured him a little. He looked around the room more closely now. It was dark outside. That couldn't be right. It had been day when the ghost attacked. Or had he really been out of it? He didn't know what the black ghost had done to him, but he knew it didn't seem any inclined to explain itself. He moved and put the guns in his pockets.

He couldn't have told anyone what had happened. Even later it seemed to confusing. He was fine one moment, and then he felt nothing but pain. His legs dropped out from underneath him and he gasped, unable to fill his lungs enough to scream. He hit the ground hard. He didn't dare look up. Whatever this thing was that had attacked him, it was different from even the black ghost. The ghost had hurt him yes, but this thing was evil. The ghost didn't seem that way. Whatever this thing was, it enjoyed his pain and suffering. He could hear its hissing laugh overhead, and he could almost swear that he heard thousands of voices screaming in agony and terror. America closed his eyes, fully expecting to die.

But he didn't. When he next knew what was going on, he felt someone shaking his arm gently and sobbing into his shoulder. He couldn't help but let a groan pass from his lips as his chest ached again. Instantly, the person grabbed him into a hug. Surprised, America opened his eyes. It was Italy. Of all people to end up here, Italy. But the small country was not going to be persuaded to let go anytime soon.

"I-Italy?" America asked. "What are you doing here?" The small Italian instantly began to speak quickly as if he had to say everything in a single breath.

"That black ghost grabbed me!" Italy cried, still clinging to America. "And I was separated from Japan and Germany and my brother. I woke up here and I was wondering around. Then I saw that thing..." he started sobbing. "The thing that attacked you...It was horrible. I think it really was trying to kill you! And the worst part is that even that we're nations we can still die in this house. I can feel it! I was so scared! I'm just glad that it hadn't hit any vital organs and I could stop the bleeding..." the Italian continued to sob.

America froze and looked down at his chest. A bandage was wound over it from where Italy had treated it as best as he could. But it was still covered in blood. He hadn't imagined it then. That thing had REACHED all the way through his chest. It had torn his chest apart. Whatever that thing had been, he hadn't hesitated to try and kill him. America might have been afraid then. But the trembling Italian was still clinging to him. America suddenly felt a wave of courage he knew wasn't really there.

Italy had already been terrified, but after seeing America hurt he had nearly panicked. Italy was a kind person. He liked everyone. And he knew America at least, if not well. He needed something, anything, familiar. He was terrified that America would die. America understood that. He gently hugged the Italian, wincing a little as the wound smarted again.

"It's OK." America told him. "It's OK. I'm fine now OK."

"Don't leave me!" Italy sobbed. "I don't want to be alone! I'm scared!"

"Hey, it's OK. I'm not going anywhere." America said, feeling his heart melt when he finally saw Italy's terrified eyes. "I'm right here. Everything's OK. I'm not going to let it get you."

"What does it want?" Italy asked, terrified. "What is it? Why is it here? Why did it try to kill you?"

"I don't know." America replied. "But we're going to survive, alright?" He waited until the Italian finally calmed down. Then he pulled out one of the guns and handed it to him. "Here. Take this." Italy looked at it and froze.

"No!" Italy cried. "I can't! Germany says I can't shoot a gun right! What if I miss? What if I hit you? What if-"

"Italy." America said sternly but gently. "Germany's not here. I can use a gun, but I can't always protect you. You need to be able to protect yourself. And I'm hurt. What if I need you to protect me? You're going to have to learn to shoot this gun. So take it. You need it. I'll teach you, and you'll do just fine." Italy looked down at it and took it, sliding it into his pocket. "There you go."

Italy gave America a little smile. But then they both paused. They had heard a large creature moving past the door. It snuffled outside the door, growling. Italy visibly began to tremble, and America realized that he had to do something. He pulled the second gun out of his pocket and stood, carefully stepping forward and preparing the gun to fire. Italy stood too and grabbed America's arm, hiding behind him but still nervously watching the door.

There was silence for a moment. No doubt, the creature had noticed them by now. It was waiting, listening. America felt his finger slowly begin to tighten on the trigger. His focused was honed. But after years of fighting it had to be. But Italy trembled, trapped in this tiny room. He was used to running away. He was a country that was very appeasing, where America had grown tough in the wilderness of his own frontiers. The two of them both realized the differences between them. Italy was flight. America was fight. But then the creature snarled. Italy whimpered.

It came crashing through the door. The following scene only took a split second, but to the terrified Italian it took far too long. The creature was a large black dog like creature filled with muscle. There were no eyes on its face. A snake like tongue darted in and out of its mouth, and it had no tail. Its ears seemed to big for its head and they were laid back against its skull. Italy screamed. But America didn't even wince. He put three bullets in its head. It howled and crashed to the ground dead. The gunshots seemed to resonate through the air. There were several answering howls. America instantly grabbed Italy's wrist and dragged him down the hall, ignoring his squeak of protest.

"A-America!" Italy cried.

"We have to go." America explained quickly. "Those things may come to where that one fell. We can't take the chance. I have to teach you to protect yourself fast. We can't waste time!"

"But your injury-!"

"It'll hold for now!" America replied. "Come on!"

They ran on through the hallway, looking in room after room until at last they ducked into a small room with nothing but chairs and an old table. America closed the door, enveloping them in darkness. They both waited until their eyes adjusted to the lack of light and they could see again. Everything outside went quiet again, though the wind still howled mournfully. Italy looked at America silently, terrified. America sighed.

"Well, I'll have to teach you to use that gun." he said. "And we'll need food and water until we can get out of here."

"Are we going to die?" Italy asked, trembling.

"I don't know." America replied. "But we're going to try our best to escape."

"And why hasn't that thing come back?"

"I don't know."

"Why are we here?"

"I don't know Italy." America said gently. "I don't know. But I promise I'm going to do my best to get you out." Suddenly Italy looked up at him, understanding passing over his face.

"But what about you?" Italy asked, nearly whispering it.

"Well I'll follow if I can." America promised. "But it's not like anyone will miss me if I'm gone."

"What?" Italy gasped. "No! That's not true America!"

"Yes it is." America sighed. "You're a sweet boy. Everyone likes you. But everyone hates me. They think I'm stupid. They think I put my nose in everyone's business. Nearly every country has told me that they hate me or they've proven it."

"No you're wrong America!"

"No I'm not." America argued. "We all reflect the people of our nations. Many people in America seem stupid, or at least more stupid than everyone else."

"How can you say that?" Italy cried. "If you die then the country you represent dies too! Then what will we do?"

"I know that..." America said quietly.

"Then don't give up!" Italy cried. "You've got smart people too! And that makes you smart. You're really bright. You can learn a lot. You always say what's on your mind. And you're brave. You just haven't had the right place to shine. People love you. They do. So you have to find a way out with me!" America blinked, surprised.

"You're so much like my brother, Canada." He said. Italy gave him a smile and opened his mouth to speak again.

But suddenly they weren't alone. It was a ghost, a young man. He had dark black hair that hung down to his shoulders and dark green eyes. He was tall and wore all green, though a dark stain on his front and back told America that he had been badly injured. His skin was pale. America winced and touched his own chest. He was close, standing between America and Italy. He smiled, and it was a true smile, though a little sad too. Italy instantly gave a squeak of surprise and somehow ran over and managed to put himself between America and the ghost as if to protect him. The stranger bowed.

"W-who are you?" Italy asked. "What do you want?"

"With a tip of my hat and a thousand hellos." he replied. "I'm the stranger that waits at the fork in the road."

"What?" America asked. "What do you mean? Why are you rhyming?"

"My name and my face are irrelevant now. For it's been a long time since my sun went down."

"So," Italy ventured. "You're dead. And you can't tell us."

"Why are you here then?" America asked.

"Such smart young men both of you are but how long will that last? There is evil here that has claimed many lives and it's coming for you fast." he said.

"You're trying to tell us about it?" America asked. "You're trying to help us."

"But something is keeping you from saying anything that isn't a riddle?" Italy asked. The stranger nodded.

"Riddle me that and riddle me this." The stranger replied. "Answer correctly, I'll give you a gift. Five ghosts are this place and none are the same. Now you must try and guess my name. There is King, Queen, and little Jack. But none of us really have hearts of black. There is the Ace, the knight of the queen. She is the one who can't stand screams. Then there is me, always alone. I'm different than them, and life was a joke. But the question, the first in our game: Who am I and what is my name?"

"That's simple." America replied after a slight pause. "They're all playing cards. There's a king, a queen, a jack and an ace. Only the Joker is left. And besides, you said life was a joke."

"A simple question and an answer that's sweet." the Joker said. "Now what I promised, a gift that you need." he reached into his pocket and pulled out a skeleton key, handing it to Italy. He took it a little nervously. "Take this down the hall, to a door on the right. There is a lot that you need and a safe place inside."

Then he reached forward, past Italy, and touched his forefinger to the center of America's forehead. America froze. Ghosts scared him. They always had, though he didn't know when he had begun to fear them really. But like the white ghost, the Joker didn't scared him. He felt a connection to him in a way. They were both the Jokers in their groups. But this ghost had faced the same doubts that America had voiced earlier to Italy. America knew he was sad from watching his friends die and being able to do nothing. The only thing he could do was continue to be a Joker and try to cheer them up. America could relate to that.

Italy nervously watched the two of them, trying to make sure that the ghost wouldn't hurt America. But then the Joker disappeared, leaving them alone again. Instantly, Italy turned to America. He checked to make sure he was OK. And when he was sure he was fine he hugged him. The surprised American blinked and looked down at him.

"I don't know what's going on..." Italy said quietly.

"Me either." America replied. "But right now we have to survive. So let's go see if we can find that safe room."

**Author's Note:**

So there's the end of the first chapter. What do you think? Feel free to post any comments below. I do plan on continuing this story into a multiple chapter story, though I don't really know how long it'll end up. Tell me what you think below!

**Thanks for reading!**


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